Fortunately she had plenty of courage; and when her brain had steadied from the shock she began to look about her. One thing was certain, she would not, and could not, remain in the veldt all night. If it was fine perhaps there would be no great hardship in that, in spite of the cold, but a heavy storm was coming on, and she would be drenched5 to the skin. The red sun sank down behind the hills; dark clouds labored6 up from the east; and the wide plain around her was swallowed up in the gloom. The place and the time were eerie7; and the girl felt a superstitious8 thrill as she rose painfully to her feet, trying hard to collect her thoughts. At first it was the cause of the disaster which puzzled her.
Why had the pony run away? She had ridden him frequently, and there was not an ounce of vice9 in the little beast. That he should suddenly bolt without rhyme or reason was quite incomprehensible. Perhaps, had she looked back and seen the evil grin on the face of the Kaffir who had saddled him, she would not have been at such a loss to explain the little pony's freak.
But something she must do. She would walk on till she came to a Boer farmhouse10, and get them to take her in for the night. Then she would get a horse and return to the camp in the morning. Perhaps she might even chance on some English people, seeing that she was in an English colony and one loyal to the Queen. That there were rebels there it was true, but not on that side of the river. Having a wholesome11 dread12 of their foes13 at close quarters, they would not dare to cross. So far, then, she felt safe; what she needed was food and shelter. Kilting up her riding skirt she went forth14 in the fast-gathering darkness in search of them.
It was weary work plodding15 over the loose sand, and after the first quarter of a mile she was quite worn out. It seemed as though she would have to pass the night on the open veldt. Then it occurred to her that if she shouted some one might hear and come to her rescue. And if by chance she did fall into the hands of the enemy they would surely treat her kindly16. Whatever his faults, the Boer was too religious to be wholly a scoundrel. Assistance she must have, so straightway she hollowed her hands and shouted through them. Her long, shrill17 cry pierced the air time after time, but there was no response. The echo died away and the quiet shut down again, and she heard the desert talking to itself--the faint murmur18 of the wind rustling19 over the sand, the gurgle of the river, and at times the wail20 of a solitary21 bird. Again and again he shouted with a courage born of despair. All was silent, silent as the grave. Then a sound fell upon her ears. It came nearer and nearer until it took shape and defined itself as the steady gallop22 of a horse.
For a moment she was afraid; but luckily she had with her a small but serviceable revolver which Harold made her carry. She drew it from her belt. She was prepared to use it if necessary against an enemy; even against herself. But perhaps it was some well-meaning and kindly Boer, or, better still, an Englishman. She resolved to risk attracting his attention. Anything was better than a night alone on that desolate23 waste. Taking her courage in both hands, she cried again, and the galloping24 of the horse was now close upon her. Then a man's voice shouted. She replied and ran forward to meet her preserver, as she prayed he might prove to be. Already she thanked God for her deliverance. She came up close with him, and peered anxiously through the lowering light to take in his features. Instantly she recognized them. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins25 as she did so. Those features she knew only too well; there was no mistaking that stalwart figure. That it should be he of all men!--Waldo van Zwieten!
"What! Mrs. Burton?" he said politely, as he swung himself off his big black steed. "Well, I am surprised. This is indeed an unexpected pleasure." Brenda shrank back and fumbled26 for her revolver. Brave as she was, the man's mocking suavity27 terrified her. She said not a word, but looked at him as he stood, strong and tall and masterful, beside his horse.
"Can you not speak?" he said impatiently. "How comes it that I find you here?"
"My horse ran away with me and threw me," said Brenda, keeping at a safe distance from the preserver Fate had so ironically sent her. "Will you please to conduct me back to the camp, Mr. van Zwieten?"
"What! and run the chance of arrest? No, thank you. But there is a Boer farmhouse a couple of miles away, near the river. I can take you there if you like."
"Can I trust you?" asked Brenda, in a tremulous voice.
"You can trust the man who loves you."
"If you talk to me like that I won't go with you."
"Then I am afraid you will have to pass the night on the veldt."
"Mr. van Zwieten," she said with dignity, "an accident has placed me in your company, but not in your power. I have a revolver, and if you attempt to insult me I shall----"
"Kill me, I suppose."
"No, but I will kill myself!"
His face twitched28. He knew she would do what she said, and his love for her was so great that he would prevent that, even at the cost of his own life. "You need have no fear, Mrs. Burton," he said in a low tone; "I will treat you with all respect. Get on my horse and we will make for the farmhouse I speak of."
Unpleasant as it was, there seemed nothing for it but to accept his offer. The position could not be worse, and it might be made better. So far, she thought, she had the upper hand; but she was puzzled by his politeness, and mistrusted it. However, she had no time to analyze29 her sensations, for the darkness was coming on apace, and the sooner she reached human habitation the better.
"I will go with you," she said bravely; "I will accept your offer. I do not think you are a good man, and I have used hard words to you, I know; still, I will trust you now."
Van Zwieten bowed. He said no word, but held the stirrup for her to mount. With his assistance she swung herself into the saddle, and being a good horse-woman, she settled herself comfortably on it without much difficulty.
In silence he began to lead the horse across the veldt. All the while she kept a tight grasp on her little revolver and a sharp eye on his every action. For some time they proceeded thus without a word. Then Van Zwieten laughed in a low, musical way. "What a fool I am!" he said slowly. "I love you madly; I have you in my power, and yet I do not take so much as a kiss. I am a coward!"
Her face burned in the darkness, but she gave no sign of fear.
"You call yourself a coward," she said calmly. "I call you a brave man."
"Oh, I am a spy!" he cried scornfully.
"You are a spy and, for all I know, a murderer; but you are a brave man, Mr. van Zwieten, all the same, for you can rule yourself. I never thought of you as I do at this moment."
"You say that because you wish to conciliate me," he retorted angrily, "not because you think so. I am not a good man. I know myself to be bad; but I love you too well to harm a hair of your head. All the same, I intend to marry you."
"That is impossible. I am married already, and if Harold were to die--well, you know what I said."
"That was only supposing I killed him," argued Van Zwieten. "But suppose he were killed fighting, as he may easily be?"
"Then I would remain a widow for the rest of my days. I love my husband. I should always remain true to his memory. You could never be anything to me. Not until this moment have I ever been able to feel the faintest glimmer30 of respect for you."
"Even if that is so, I wonder that you choose to speak like that to me, situated31 as you are now. It is calculated to scatter the good intentions of a better man than I."
"I cannot help it. I have told you I am not in your power. I am not afraid to die. That I prove by not shooting you as you stand there. As it is! I keep these little bullets for myself."
Van Zwieten groaned32. "To think of this woman being wasted on a worthless fool like Burton!" said he.
"He is not a fool."
"You may not think so. You cannot expect me to agree. Oh, if you had only listened to me, only given me a chance, I would have been a better man!"
"I think you are a better man, or you would not have behaved as you are doing now. You are a strange mixture of good and bad."
He shrugged33 his shoulders. "It often happens so," he said. "Those who think to find a bad man all bad or a good man all good are invariably disappointed. I have met the best of men, and hated them for their meanness, just as I have met the worst and loved them for some delightful34 incongruity35. We are a pie-bald lot indeed."
Then again for a few moments they went on silently. In the distance now could be seen a light, and on the wind came the barking of dogs. The murmur of the river continued all the while like the drone of the bagpipes36.
"You see, I have not deceived you," he said. "There is the farm. There are women there. The men are out with their commandoes--rebels, you call them. I suppose you wonder what I am doing here on this side of the Tugela?"
"I do, considering Wilfred Burton is in the camp, and it would be very easy for him to denounce you. You are not the man to run unnecessary risks, as a rule."
"The risk I am running is for your sake. No, I won't explain myself now. If necessary, I must show a clean pair of heels. That, fortunately, I am well able to do. But here we are at the farm. That is Tant' Trana on the doorstep."
He lifted her from the horse, and she saw the stout37 woman whom he called Tant' Trana waiting on the door to receive them. The look she gave Brenda was by no means one of kindly welcome. Rather was it full of hostility38. But she seemed to fear Van Zwieten, and she set herself to do her best to make the English lady comfortable. When he had gone out to look after his horse, Tant' Trana set the best she had in the way of food before Brenda. But the girl was utterly39 exhausted40, and could not eat. She drank a cup of coffee, and the Boer woman watched her dourly41 as she drank it. Then it appeared that Tant' Trana spoke42 English.
"I am no child," she said. "No; I have lived long, and the dear Lord has watched over me. But never did I expect to see an Englishwoman at my table. Beloved Lord, Thy wrath43 is heavy upon me!"
"I am very sorry," said Brenda, considerably44 taken aback by this outburst. "I won't trouble you long--only till morning."
But Tant' Trana continued without heeding45 her. She was so fat that it took her some time to recover her breath. "The dear Lord gave this land to us--to the chosen of Israel. And you English--you seed of Satan come to take it from us!" She shook her great fist in Brenda's face. "But never fear, our burghers shall drive you into the sea. Oom Paul is our Moses. Two sons and a husband have I fighting for the land of milk and honey. We have two thousand morgen and you would take it from us. Beloved Lord, let our Moses and his hosts smite46 the ungodly Amalekites!"
How long the old woman went on raving47 thus Brenda did not know. She began to feel sleepy: the face of Tant' Trana seemed to grow larger and more red then it receded48 and her voice seemed to grow more faint--to come from far away, although the woman was talking her loudest. Brenda had just grasped the idea that her coffee had been drugged when she lost her senses. With one last effort she pulled out her little revolver. It dropped from her hand as her head fell back. The Boer woman picked it up and cursed like Deborah. Senseless and white, Brenda lay in the big chair, Tant' Trana looking on and raving the while. Then Van Zwieten entered the room. A smile of satisfaction flitted across his face.
How long she remained thus insensible Brenda knew not. She came gradually to herself. Then she wondered if she could be on board ship. There was a rocking motion, and she felt as though she were imprisoned49. Then her senses grew more clear, and she awoke to the fact that she was on horseback--in the arms of Van Zwieten. He held her steadily50 in front of him on the saddle, and the horse was trotting51 steadily over the grass, and a thunderous black sky was overhead. She uttered a cry, and gave herself up for lost. Once again she felt for her revolver. Van Zwieten guessed what she was after, and laughed cruelly.
"No, it's not there, Mrs. Burton," he said. "I had to arrange that. I'm glad, though, you've woke up. I want to have a talk with you."
"Put me down! put me down!" gasped52 the girl.
"Put you down?" repeated he, clasping her the tighter. "Hardly, after all the trouble I have had to get you here. That is too much to ask, dear Brenda."
"Your promise--you promised to treat me well."
"And I have done so. As I told you, I would not harm a hair of your dear head. And I have not done so, and I will not do so. I had to drug your coffee because I knew that by no other means should I be able to get you away. All's fair in love and war, you know. This is both love and war. I told you that in Durban; don't you remember?"
"Where are you taking me?"
"To the Boer lines: We have crossed the river; yes, there is a ford53 hard by the farmhouse. That, of course, was the reason I took you there. In another hour we shall be safe amongst my own people. Thence you will go to Pretoria, and then--and then, when the war is all over, you will marry me!"
"I will die first," she screamed, trying to struggle.
"You will not be allowed to die. The little revolver looked pretty, ah, so pretty! in your hands, but it was dangerous. I love you too well to lose you like that. And now that I have you wholly in my power, you cannot say that I am behaving badly."
"Oh, put me down, do put me down! Dear Mr. van Zwieten, don't spoil your good action in saving me on the veldt by----"
"Saving you! Saving you!" exclaimed the Dutchman. "How innocent you are, child! Why, you don't think our meeting was accidental, do you? I had you brought there. I knew exactly what would happen, and my calculations were not very far out, were they?"
"You!--you!--oh, how can you tell me such a thing? I don't believe it. It is a lie."
"Gently, please, gently," said he, restraining her tenderly. She was struggling to free herself from his grasp, even, as she knew, at the risk of life and limb. "I can be cruel as well as kind. I tell you it was I who brought you on to the veldt. The Kaffir boy who attended to your horse is my servant. I knew how you rode every day, for I followed you up from Durban, and have watched you constantly. I told the boy to prepare a special bit for your horse; one that would burn his mouth after a while. Oh, that is an old trick which I learned in your virtuous54 England. When the little beast began to feel the burning he naturally bolted. What else would you expect him to do? I did not anticipate he would throw you, though; that was not included in my plans! The rest you know."
Again she tried to struggle free from his grasp. "For God's sake, let me down!" she cried. She felt she would go into hysterics every moment.
"That is the one thing I will not do. I have you at last, and I keep you. You are mine now, husband or no husband. Not if I can help it shall you ever see him again."
She strove to pierce the black darkness that was all around. She strained and strained her eyes, but there was nothing. Then she thought she saw a light. But she could not be sure. On the vain chance that somebody might hear she screamed loudly once, and then again and again.
"Be quiet, I say," roared Van Zwieten, savagely55. "Understand that I won't lose you--that I shoot you first, and myself too, for that matter."
He spurred his horse; they were not yet beyond the territory under British patrol. He seemed to know perfectly56 well where he was making for. She began to feel sick and faint with the motion and the fierce clutch of the man. The horse was galloping hard now with his double burden. She felt he could not last long at that pace. But Van Zwieten had set his teeth hard to it, and urged him on and on, speaking not a word.
"Oh, God, save me from this man!" she cried.
As though in answer to her prayer there was a terrible clap of thunder. A flare57 of lightning overspread the sky, and by its light she could see his face was deadly pale, and oh! so cruel. Before he could swear--for his horse shied at the crash--before even she could cry out, the rain came down with a hiss58 and a swirl59, almost a solid mass of water. Once again her thoughts went back to that night long ago when Malet had been murdered. Was she about to meet death too?
Then, with an oath, he drove the spur into the animal, and, terrified, it made another bound forward. The rain lashed60 their faces; they were already drenched to the skin. Then came another fearful thunderclap. She felt as though her head must burst. There was a gleam far away there in the distance--the light from some farmhouse, probably.
"Help, help!" she screamed. "Oh, Harold!--Harold!"
Van Zwieten swore loudly, but his oaths were drowned in the thunder overhead. The horse reared, snorting with terror. Then she felt the Dutchman's arms lessen61 their grip, and in a paroxysm of fright and despair she flung herself to the ground. She fell into a kind of morass62, and she could hear Van Zwieten's cry of rage as the animal sprang forward. The next moment, half stunned63 and dazed as she was, she was up and running for dear life toward the light now not far distant.
In vain did Van Zwieten struggle with his terrified horse. The animal plunged64 and reared, and every peal65 of thunder increased its state of frenzy66. He heard the girl shriek67, and by a lightning flash he saw her tearing across toward the light. In the distance a farmhouse showed up black in the glare. Then, as once again he dug his spurs and turned his horse's head, he heard a shot. It was followed by another and another, and the next flash showed him several figures in front of the house.
Once again Brenda screamed for help. A lusty British cheer was her reply. It reached the ears of the horseman, and he knew well what it meant. He galloped68 off through the roar and conflict of the elements like a madman. He had lost her! For the second time she had escaped him!
Her heart bounding, she ran forward with redoubled energy, shouting ever her husband's name. There was another shot and another flash of lightning across the sky. It seemed to her that the very heavens were open. She threw up her arms and fell against the farmhouse fence. Then she heard a voice give out some order.
It was her husband's voice!
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1
extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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6
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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7
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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14
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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suavity
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| n.温和；殷勤 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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incongruity
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| n.不协调，不一致 | |
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bagpipes
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| n.风笛；风笛( bagpipe的名词复数 ) | |
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38
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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dourly
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42
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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43
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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44
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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45
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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46
smite
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| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
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47
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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48
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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49
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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51
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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52
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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53
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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54
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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55
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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56
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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57
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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58
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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59
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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60
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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61
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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62
morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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63
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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64
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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65
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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66
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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67
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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68
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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